Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story (2004)
Perhaps you think this photo is funny.
I suppose that it is — in an "Oh, I feel sorry for that guy" kind of way.
But would you think it was funny if the joke went on and on at the expense of the fat girl? Would you think it was funny if that poor young man collapsed with her on top of him, so that his face became stuck in her crotch?
If you think that's funny, then this, I'm sorry to say, is the movie for you.
I'm convinced that the guys who made Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story are not the guys who were pummeled by the bullies in high school. This is not the revenge of the nerds. My guess is this: Since junior high, the bullies have remained in the intellectual locker-room, penciling dirty jokes on the walls of the bathroom stalls, while the geeks have gone on to good careers. The geeks have had the last laugh. The bullies, horrified to see that their glory days are gone, now see themselves as the victims. So, to make themselves feel better, they've decided to make a movie in which, once again, they can pummel the successful... and yet they can still have the pleasure of laughing to their hardened-hearts' content at the expense of others.
Dodgeball is that comedy. While the movie tries to win our sympathies by casting the good guys as geeks, the movie's sense of humor gives it all away: These are the jokes of the dumb thugs in the locker room, the guys who enjoyed laughing at the inadequacies of the weak kids, the fat kids, those without the straight-A's in P.E.
Dodgeball is a forgettable, derivative, and gutter-minded work, playing strictly to the childish impulses in all of us. Occasionally, it sets foot in Zoolander territory, trying to muster up some of the inspired zaniness and pop culture parodies that made Ben Stiller's spoof of the fashion industry stand out from the rest of these post-SNL comedies. "Writer"/director Rawson Marshall Thurber seems to think it's much funnier to make Rip Torn shout dick jokes than it is to actually come up with something that qualifies as comedy.
There's no reason to summarize the film. If you've seen the previews or television commercials, you know all you need to know. It's just the most basic of formulas used as an excuse to make money of the easily-duped Old School crowd by stuffing the gaps with lines like "You're as useless as a poopie-flavored lollipop." (That's one of the better lines in the film... believe me.)
Since most of those who want to go see a movie like this probably aren't going to listen to reviews, and those who do listen to reviews could probably smell this stinker a mile off, I'm not going to waste valuable time describing the plot. Suffice to say it's about some losers who want to save their gym from being bought by a super-gym, so they enter a dodgeball contest and learn there's hardly any real competition. The bad guys are, of course, the super-gym staff led by Stiller in his most annoyingly crass performance.
It's always hard to see talented comedians wasting their energies on such juvenile behavior, but it's especially painful to see Alan Tudyk, who exhibited such brilliant comic timing in TV's short-lived Firefly series, reduced to playing Steve, the guy who thinks he's a pirate. Not even the comedy genius of Stephen Root can save this disaster.
If you do see it, you probably will laugh... occasionally. But for every good line, there are fifteen that sound like they were scraped off the walls of mens' room stalls. The cameos are funny, and when we get to the actual dodgeball tournament, the send-up of ESPN sports coverage is a hoot. But that doesn't come close to making this worth the 94 minutes.
The film is sloppy, and some of the actors seem like they wish they could pry themselves out of it. Vince Vaughn looks bored to tears, and since he's the central character, that feeling spreads to the viewer. And Stiller's willingness to stoop to a dick joke at every possible opportunity becomes wearying. Why is he so intent on playing throwaway's like this, when he's been in such intelligent and memorable films as Flirting with Disaster?
For comedy this summer, save your pennies for Anchorman, which has the potential to be for Will Ferrell what The Jerk was for Steve Martin and Groundhog Day was for Bill Murray: the defining moment that places him in the pantheon of big screen comedy greats. By spending their time in projects like this Stiller, Vaughn, and Company are winning the fans they deserve.
The Exorcism of Emily Rose (2005): a review and an interview
A review and interview by Jeffrey Overstreet, originally published in Seattle Pacific University's Response.
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Do You Believe in Demons?
In "The Exorcism of Emily Rose,"
a Christian filmmaker challenges audiences to face the horror of the devil.
Do you believe that people today can be possessed by demons?
That's a question you might not want to toss out during the family dinner, or on the bus with strangers. Most Christians would not hesitate to say they believe in spiritual warfare, but when it comes to the specifics, and whether or not the endeavors of the devil in Scripture continue as a literal reality today — well, that makes most people nervous.
Not Scott Derrickson. The director and writer of The Exorcism of Emily Rose puts the subject of demon possession right out on the table for everyone to engage. His horrific fiction is loosely based on fact; a young German woman named Anneliese Michel who willingly submitted herself to an exorcism in 1976 after several years of severe afflictions — seizures, demonic visions, speaking in different voices and personalities. Despite the priests' efforts, she died, reportedly of starvation. This generated a fierce controversy. What was Anneliese's primary condition? Possession? Psychosis? Epilepsy? The matter was settled in court.
Rewriting the story so that it stands as a fiction that invites us into difficult questions about spirit and science, Derrickson frames the film as a courtroom drama similar to an episode of TV's Law and Order. His story follows Erin Bruner (Laura Linney), a defense attorney who appeals to a jury by backing up the claims of her client — the accused Father Moore. In short, she argues in a court of law that poor Emily Rose was, indeed, possessed. This clashes with the argument of the prosecutor (Campbell Scott), who insists that the priest is guilty of negligent homicide for denying Emily the medicine and professional care that she needed, and for accelerating her deterioration under a psychological affliction.
Linney plays Bruner as a conflicted public servant, an agnostic who begins to wonder about seeming coincidences in her own life as she works the case. Are there dark forces following her to prevent her success, as the priest believes? Or is she merely becoming paranoid? It's a complex character, and Linney's work is engaging and impressive. Scott plays Ethan Thomas as a temperamental "man of faith" whose anger embitters him over the course of the case, so that he stands in stark contrast to other characters. While his profession of faith and his refusal to treat possession as a serious subject is an interesting contradiction, Scott can't overcome the poorly scripted character, and Thomas ends up as nothing more than a villain to boo. Tom Wilkinson, on the other hand, is extraordinary, a convincingly conscientious and noble priest put to the test before a skeptical jury, burdened with a personal mission to "tell Emily's story."
The film avoids gratuitous gore and the kind of shocks that provide the backbone of most horror films. Sure, the flashbacks to Emily's "attacks" are horrifying — especially because Derrickson eschews digital effects in favor of a powerfully creepy performance. (Playing Emily, Jennifer Carpenter twists herself into alarming contortions.) But this director is clearly more interested in the serious questions at hand and the sufferings of those caught up in the case. Audience members are thus likely to come away discussing and debating the merits of the Catholic church's teachings on the devil, instead of chatting about their favorite thrills. That should please Derrickson, whose goal is to confront audiences with a vision of darkness that might nudge them toward rewarding discussion, perhaps even to the light.
Response spoke with Scott Derrickson about making Emily Rose, about how a Christian artist could devote himself to making horror films, and about his experience as a Christian working in Hollywood.
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Response: Was it hard to get studio support for "Emily Rose"? Or did the success of "The Passion" make things easier?
Scott Derrickson:
I don't think it's a coincidence the movie was green-lit the Monday after The Passion of the Christ opened. [laughs]
I was fortunate that the gatekeeper on the project, Clint Culpepper, [president of Sony Pictures Entertainment's Screen Gems unit,] was somebody who just understood what The Exorcism of Emily Rose was really meant to be. He understood the spiritual significance of it. And he understood that there's an audience out there that is not only unafraid of that kind of material, but has a great appetite for that kind of material. He knew that it was a scary film, and he knew that it was gonna be marketed as a scary film — as did I — because ... anybody who goes to see this movie is, hopefully, going because they want to watch a scary movie.
Response: But it's not a conventional scary movie.
Derrickson:
It's an art house horror film. It's certainly an art-ful horror film. It's not an exploitive horror film. It's something unique. It's also a courtroom movie.
Response: It takes spirituality more seriously than most horror films as well.
Derrickson:
There was never any pressure to remove that. I think that there were a lot of questions by studio executives involved, and by cast members — particularly Laura Linney — who wanted to know where I was coming from, personally, regarding the material.
Whenever you are dealing with such overtly spiritual and religious material in this day and age when religion and politics seem to be so intertwined, if you say you're a Christian, people automatically assume what your political agenda is. Laura wanted to know what my agenda was in making the film. And I assured her, as I did the executives on the project, that I wasn't interested in making a piece of religious propaganda. I wanted to make an effective, entertaining, provocative movie that wasn't attempting to offer the audience metaphysical or spiritual answers, but was provoking significant religious and spiritual questions. That is the agenda of the film.
My hope is that when people see the movie — no matter who they are, no matter what they believe — they're going to come away asking themselves what they really believe about demons and the devil and, therefore, God.
Response: To you, then, the value of horror stories is their potential to provoke spiritual inquiry?
Derrickson:
The potential value of the horror genre is that it forces us to reckon with the harder truths of life and the darker realities of life.
A lot of Hollywood films are escapist in their nature. They offer the audience a temporary denial of the difficult realities of life and the darkness that exists in the world. In the horror genre, the great potential of it is that it forces us to reckon with what we are afraid of. It forces us to admit an experience — that there is evil in the world, and in ourselves. There's evil in nature. We're not in control. I think it's the genre of non-denial, and that's fundamentally what attracts me to it.
Emily Rose is a movie that takes some of the darkest aspects of spirituality and portrays them in a realistic way. And the value of that is that I don't think you can watch the film without asking yourself if you believe that these things are real, if you believe in spiritual entities or not. It's valuable for the culture as a whole to be asking itself those questions. Because once you're in that arena, you can't ask yourself if you believe in the devil without ultimately asking yourself what you believe about God.
To dissect evil is ultimately to define good.
Response: And yet, films in this genre are almost always under fire from the Christian media as a negative influence. Is there any merit in that argument?
Derrickson:
I think that you can become oversaturated with this kind of material. I don't think it's healthy for people to watch nothing but films like this. But I think that a dose of it in the artistic and entertainment diet is a really good thing.
I love the verse [that says] "Have nothing to do with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather expose them." In my Christian training, I was taught to "have nothing to do with fruitless deeds of darkness." But I never really understood or was given much illumination, this idea of exposing them. I think the reason for that is that the act of exposing darkness involves some discomfort. [laughs] Christians don't like to be made uncomfortable. I don't. I'm not saying that as a judgment.
Response: So how do you determine when you're exposing the darkness, and when you're merely indulging in it?
Derrickson:
I think that the story itself has to dictate to what level a filmmaker ought to go in, in the portrayal of evil and the portrayal of graphic material. When I made [Hellraiser: Dominion], I went as far in that film as I would ever go as a filmmaker in terms of the graphic nature. It's a very grotesque movie. I don't like that kind of stuff, graphic violence, personally. But I was making a movie about hell. One of my ambitions [with] that movie was to create a portrayal of hell that had some personal significance for me.
When Jesus told the story of the rich man and Lazarus and used what I believe were the metaphors of flames and fire, he was trying to create a frightening, horrible, fear-inspiring place for listeners of that story. But those images of flames and the lake of fire, and even the devil, as we see him with his red underwear and his pitchfork... those things have little actual resonance now, because they've been so used up in pop culture and have become almost cartoonish. So [in Hellraiser: Dominion], I was trying to recapture — at least for myself — the depth of horror that a place like hell would inhabit. I was willing to go quite far with that kind of material.
In making Emily Rose, I felt like The Exorcist had ... taken that same approach that I was just describing, of trying to create the most vulgar and nauseating and wretched experience that a filmmaker could possibly put the audience through. William Friedkin did that so effectively, I knew that trying to top that would be a disaster. [laughs]
Trying to go farther in that direction would either be so nauseating as to make the film unwatchable, or it would more likely just become laughable.
In my research for this movie, and reading about documented cases of possession and exorcism and deliverance, I've seen a lot of videotapes of actual possessions and exorcisms. I think that what actually happens is much less graphic [than The Exorcist], but equally frightening. I had to get rid of this exploitative vulgarity and grotesqueness, and focus, rather, on what is equally frightening, which is the sort of alien inhumanity of possessed people.
Whether you believe in possession or not ... you can't witness a person who is going through this whole process of possession and exorcism and not find it profoundly disturbing, even if you think it's mental illness.
So that became the approach — to not focus on those more exploitive elements, but to really try to scare the audience with the psychological aspects of it, and to frighten them with what they don't see, which is always, ultimately, scarier. I think the result is quite effective. The movie is very, very scary, without resorting to those more exploitative elements and without resorting to makeup and CGI effects in any kind of obvious way.
Response: What do you hope to accomplish, drawing viewers into this experience? Other than just scaring them, does the film offer any kind of redemptive hope, or leave them with any direction?
Derrickson:
I don't think that a true story of possession and exorcism needs to be justified. The fact that these things really happen out in the world, and happen quite frequently, means that it's worth exploring in dramatic forums. In other words, telling the truth has value in and of itself.
But I think that your point is a really good one: What is the intended, desired effect of a film like this on the audience, and how do you leave them with something more than just despair and fear?
The film is premiering at the Venice Film Festival on September 1, and I had to write a Director's Statement for it. In the last paragraph, I wrote that it was appropriate that the film premiere in Italy, because it was heavily influenced by two great Italians, Dario Aregento and Dante.
Response: Why Dante?
Derrickson:
Dante understood that gothic storytelling can be a tremendous vehicle for spiritual and theological passion. And, you know, he was very theologically and religiously obsessed, that guy. [laughs] And yet, he took what I think he believed to be incredible moral instruction and incredible theological dissection, and offered that up to the audience through an incredibly frightening tale. And there was a higher purpose to the story than just scaring them. He wanted to take the audience into a spiritual and theological place, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. And I love that. [L'Inferno] is one of one of the great works of art in history. And, for me, what's so great about it was that it is a genre piece. It's a horror story. And, yet, it's so creatively ambitious and so morally instructive.
In the case of Emily Rose, I didn't want to make a morally instructive movie, and I didn't want to make a movie that was bent on providing religious answers for the audience, because I am so resistant to that kind of propaganda myself. But I felt that this was the opportunity to help provoke the audience into asking the right spiritual questions.
I don't think you can watch this film and not ask yourself very deeply what you believe about the existence of the spiritual realm. And I think that for popular culture to be provoked to ask those questions — "What do I believe about the existence of the spiritual realm?" "What, if anything, do I believe inhabits that realm?" — that can only result in progress, in spiritual progress, for those who see the film.
I didn't want to try to tell a story that gave more of an answer because I think that when you're dealing with ... subject matter that's volatile — like politics, religion, or race relationships — you're dealing with things [about which people] have very harsh strong opinions. Once you begin to propagate your own point of view as a director, you begin to turn the audience off, even if they agree with you.
The template that I had in mind working on this movie was Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing. Spike Lee has very strong opinions about issues of race relationships in America. And to the degree that he forces those opinions into his movies, his movies become, I think, for the most part, less interesting. Do the Right Thing was the greatest film of the 1980s, and I think one of the reasons why it was so great was because, rather than trying to instruct the audience of how they ought to think about these issues, he was forcing them just to think about them ... period. He forced all of the issues onto the table in such a way that you [had to] engage the questions the film was asking. And people argued about that movie. People had varying different opinions about that film. But it was so great — he had people talking about something that they otherwise wouldn't be talking about.
Response: The other "great Italian" you mentioned — Dario Argento — how did he influence you?
Derrickson:
What inspired me about Argento's work was that he understood that horror films didn't need to be devoid of beauty. He understood that you could combine beauty and terror; you can combine aesthetic ambition with this genre. It's something that's very few horror directors have embraced. Horror films tend to be dark, gothic, or even ugly or uninspiring. He saw that terror and beauty have an interesting relationship when they're combined. It's a very rich experience to watch his films — even though they are, in my opinion, very average horror stories — because he's giving you ... astonishing aesthetics in the process of telling you these scary tales.
As a Christian, that speaks to me, because I find the cross to be the ultimate merging of beauty and terror. It's a vision out of a horror film. A man ... nailed to a plank. The blood imagery. At the same time, it is transformed by its meaning — and by its artistic representations through history — to become something profoundly beautiful.
The great potential of the horror genre is [in] that combination of aesthetic richness and meaningful subject matter... and spiritual significance. All these things combine with dark tales that scare us, that shake us to our core, that make us realize that we're not sovereign in the world, that there are malevolent forces inside of us and outside of us. We are, ourselves, evil. And there's evil out in the world, and that there's evil in nature. I just think that all of that swirling around together in a good film is a wonderful thing to experience, [and audiences can be] enriched because of it — spiritually and aesthetically, and cinematically enriched. That's the goal.
Response: How would you encourage Christian moviegoers — especially those who are aspiring artists and filmmakers — to proceed in engaging with art and culture?
Derrickson:
Part of the answer is ... not viewing Hollywood, or any of the resources of artistic and entertainment output, as places to be "conquered for Christ." They are places where Christians who are artistic and want to be creative must go and must be. And I think that is where the starting point needs to be.
Assuming that people have their spiritual life together, the starting point is not even about integration; it certainly isn't about occupation; the starting point should be excellence.
The fault line running through Christian interests in the arts in America is that they don't love the arts enough. The problem with Christians who want to be involved with Hollywood, for the most part, is that they don't love movies enough. They don't love them enough to demonstrate the kind of commitment to excellence that it takes to succeed in the field.
That is, I believe, our Christian duty [as artists] — is to create great cinema, and to write great novels, and to create great music. I believe that God is glorified by excellence. That's why I believe that the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel is uniquely glorifying to God. It was made out of spiritual passion, yes, but it was a demonstration of the highest order of excellence in the realm of painting. And I believe that that skill and craft, as it is increasingly excellent, is increasingly glorifying to God. God is a creator and he made us to be co-creators with him.
Christians need to get their act together... and realize that it's not about being better than the world. It's about being as good as God intended us to be at creating things, and to become more and more creative, and more and more original, and more and more innovative. Insofar as we do that, we will inevitably impact culture. Impacting the culture shouldn't be the goal — it will become the inevitable byproduct of glorifying God through the work itself.
I don't think Flannery O'Conner sat down and thought, "Hm. How could I change the culture?" I just think that she loved books, and she loved words, and she loved stories, and she became as skilled at that as any writer of her day. And the result was that she wrote classic stories.
When Bono accepted a Grammy, I remember that he said something along the lines of [how] he wanted to thank God, but he always imagined God looking down and going, "No, no, no, no. Don't thank Me; I hated that song." [laughs]
If there's a second part to the answer, it would be this: Christians must come to a point where they appreciate and embrace, wholeheartedly, a work of art because of its aesthetic qualities alone. [Christians] — even those who seem favorable towards cinema — tend to respond only to the content and the meaning of the content of the film. And I'm not going to disparage that; that's a huge part of cinema. But it's not necessarily the primary part of any given film.
It's almost as though a fan of Renaissance art is standing in front of Picasso's work, trying to extract the moral lessons of adultery from his paintings about his various exploits with women, and trying to dissect Picasso's cosmology or anthropology. Yet what they're missing is that the greatness of Picasso really has nothing to do with that. Is it there? Yeah, it's there. Can you find it in there? Sure, I guess so. [But] the greatness of Picasso was form and style. That person standing there should just look and recognize that God breathed through this man and gave the world some of the greatest form and style ever put on canvas. That is as glorifying as the content of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.
I've had so many arguments with people about Kill Bill, Volume I and II. I fundamentally reject the revenge ethic of "Volume I," especially. It's anti-Christian. It is an attitude toward the world that I think is [laughs] pretty destructive. And the movie borders on reckless violence. But all I can say is I love those films. I think that they are such masterful demonstrations of form and style, that they are almost completely redeemed by it. As a filmgoer and as a Christian, I don't have to react violently against the fact that it's a revenge movie. I know that I think revenge is bad. But I don't know that that movie is going to propagate that idea in any kind of dangerous way. What I, as a Christian, respond [with] whenever I watch it is, "My goodness, what form! And what style! And what beauty! And, boy, I can just feel the creative passion and the excellence in that work!" I'm inspired by it. I take away something very rich and beautiful from it, and I feel better as a human being for having that experience.
That is a place that, that few Christians are living. It's an important thing for us to get to a place where we really understand that form and style are sitting on the same level as content as things to be appreciated in cinema. My favorite films are films that embody both. I can make a good argument those are the best ones. It's why Kurosawa is my favorite director, He was always hitting a "10" on the aesthetic and form meter, and he was always hitting a "10" on the meaning and content meter. He just never wanted to let one outweigh the other; he just wanted them both to be supreme at all times. And, and he made about 10 or 15 masterpieces because of that.
The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001)
[This first draft of this review was published at The Phantom Tollbooth on January 5, 2002. It was soon revised and re-published at Looking Closer.]
Merry Christmas, readers and moviegoers.
It would be good, in these days of frenzied merchandising, to remember the words of J.R.R. Tolkien, which he included in a letter to his son Michael in 1962:
"Well here comes Christmas! That astonishing thing that no ‘commercialism' can in fact defile-unless you let it."
Likewise, The Lord of the Rings as great literature cannot be defiled by merchandising or movies, unless you let it. Tolkien's beloved saga will remain one of the most influential, and probably the most popular fantasy story ever written for a long time to come, and no matter what moviemakers leave out, no matter what shows up on a collectible Burger King glass, nobody can rob the books of their language, which is their greatest strength.
But, for better or worse, the film series has begun, and it's time to determine how they stand as adaptations, as entertainment, and as art.
You probably already know the details:
With an allowance of more than $250 million from New Line Studio, Peter Jackson set out to turn his New Zealand home into a Middle Earth playground. For two years he and a crew of committed filmmakers and actors ran around the mountains, forests, and the valleys. With two sequels scheduled for Christmas 2002 and 2003, the first in their film trilogy has arrived at last in theatres. And it has most critics groping for superlatives.
You probably also know what the story is about:
In the early days of the world, when different races filled the forests, mountains, and valleys, a simple, peace-loving people called Hobbits (or "Halflings", for their short stature) lived in an idyllic farming country called The Shire.
When one hobbit, Bilbo Baggins returned from an adventure with a souvenir ring, he did not know it was in fact the lost talisman of the land's great villain, Sauron. Sauron is sending his minions to find the ring, so he can regain the power to "cover all the lands in darkness."
This brings Gandalf the wizard back to the Shire, where he sets in motion a desperate quest to destroy the ring, and Bilbo's younger, stronger nephew Frodo must carry the ring all the way to Sauron's land of Mordor to throw the ring in the fires of the great volcano Mount Doom. It's not an easy prospect, but it's the only way to ensure that the ring will never fall into Sauron's hands again.
Now, keep in mind, a movie requires different things than a book. The changes made by screenwriters Fran Walsh and Phillipa Boyens are bold, so bold as even to introduce new scenes and to eliminate quite a few characters. Undoubtedly this will ruffle the feathers of those who love the books. But for those who are new to Tolkien's world, Jackson has had pity on them, and has trimmed things down so each book can fit within a three hour time span. Which would you prefer-a frantic, hurried, overcrowded version that stays faithful to every detail but doesn't let you enjoy the ride? Or an abridged version, a picture book, that streamlines the story so that the movie has rhythm, music, places where you can catch your breath and think about things?
As it is, the finished product is rather hurried and frantic. And there are things that don't work. If anything, Jackson might have needed to trim even more. The film does come up short on several points, but those are minor problems. Overall, Peter Jackson and Company for doing a better job than fans ever thought possible.
Of course, it's only fair for me to confess my love for the source material. I first read Tolkien when I was seven years old. I re-read the trilogy several times by the time I was fourteen. These books were, to me, the greatest stories ever written. And they still are. They stimulate my imagination more than anything on the page or on the screen. They demonstrate the way good and evil work in the world, and they do so more profoundly and memorably than any other story I have encountered. (Okay, maybe not The Bible.)
These characters — Bilbo, Gandalf, Frodo, Sam — are so well developed in the books that I love them like friends. I remember more specific details from Bilbo and Frodo Baggins' journeys than I do about my childhood. Tolkien gave me strong metaphors for the battlegrounds of my life and my heart, for the forces in conflict that are described in Ephesians 6:12. I have revisited the trilogy every few years.
This predisposes me to be extremely suspicious of any big screen adaptation, and I approached the film with knots in my stomach, worried that the filmmakers would spoil the aspects I loved best.
Thus, I am overjoyed to report that The Fellowship of the Ring is the most ambitious, engaging, and detailed fantasy film ever to reach the big screen. For this viewer, there hasn't been an adventure movie this riveting and exhaustingly good since Raiders of the Lost Ark. A new standard has been set for special effects, for acting in a fantasy film, for musical score, and for literary adaptation.
Best of all, it demonstrates that the filmmakers have shown great respect for their source material. I was moved by Peter Jackson's passionate, caring, and human portrayals of these characters and dramas. This may not happen to you. But I've imagined these scenes my whole life, and to see them portrayed as vividly, or more vividly than I have imagined, really shook me. I felt like I was meeting in person someone with whom I had only corresponded long distance for decades.
Seeing how powerfully Jackson develops details like the character of Gandalf, and the lived-in look of the Shire, I realized how bland and mediocre most fantasy movies really are, even those that audiences and critics habitually over-praise. I won't be the first one to say this — but this really shows where Star Wars and the many big screen fantasies that mimic it are missing the point. Even with vast sums of money and cutting-edge special effects, Peter Jackson has made this a character-driven drama, and gives us intimate close-ups of each personality, so we can see the difference between happiness and joy, between fear and dread.
There are so many highlights, it would take pages and pages to address all of them. Here are a few:
1. Ian McKellen's performance as Gandalf seemed flawless, from the gleam in his eye to the ferocity of his temper tantrums. There are moments, especially in the Shire, when we learn what truly delights him, and his joy is palpable. There are moments of realization and decision in which McKellen gives Gandalf expressions of deep sadness, and it breaks the heart. I could feel the burden upon him, the pain of realizing that the Shire, which he loves, and the Hobbits that he adores, would be wounded by the coming events, and that he is almost powerless to prevent it.
2. Even though his scenes are few and fleeting, Ian Holm demonstrates again that he is one of the greatest actors of all-time. His performance as Bilbo Baggins brings Tolkien's beloved hero perfectly to life. Two of the four times this movie broke my heart with its beauty and right-ness, it was because of Holm's brilliant work. In early scenes he has to give up the ring to Gandalf, and when he does, the sacrifice is so brave and so difficult that he brought tears to my eyes.
Later, when he has the opportunity to see the ring and perhaps touch it again, he reacts like a recovering alcoholic who takes a sip of whiskey — the old compulsion rises up in a surge of evil that is so frightening that we realize just how deeply wounded Bilbo has been. In his naiveté, he was sucked into the power of the Ring, and he will never fully heal. He will carry those internal scars and weaknesses the rest of his days. When Bilbo turns away from Frodo in shame at his own greed, he shakes with grief. And so did I. How can I say this plainly...? I love Bilbo Baggins. He is the character in all of literature I care about the most. And it kills me to see his woundedness so beautifully portrayed.
3. Sean Bean's performance as Boromir, and the extra dialogue written for his character, actually improve on Tolkien's Boromir, making him a more engaging character, one we fear and love at the same time. In the final scenes of the film, a good scene in the book becomes a transcendent work of cinema.
4. Sam and Frodo are perfectly played by Sean Astin and Elijah Wood. Elijah has the tougher job — Frodo is not merely a cipher, like Harry Potter is. Frodo has to choose to do what he is doing, while Harry Potter just wanders into and out of scenes with wide eyes and a smile. Frodo has to choose, every moment, to go forward, to endure, to carry a burden unimaginable even to great men. Wood gives us convincing, simple-minded conviction... he will go forward against all odds, even if it kills him, because, well, it's the right thing to do. Jackson is right to make central one of Gandalf's charges to Frodo: "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us." Elijah Wood's furrowed brow and careful line delivery convinces me that he is willing to carry this thing to the bitter end. Sean Astin, as Sam, gives us the perfect picture of friendship. He's naïve, but determined to remain loyal and loving.
5. The rest of the hobbits are perfectly childlike. I wish we had seen more of Merry and Pippin — they're reduced to comic relief here — but I know that we will in the coming chapters.
6. The fact that Arwen replaces Glorfindel, and other such substitutions, happen so we have a chance to actually get to know some of the characters, instead of being introduced to too many in an already-crowded three-hour span. I'd rather have some insight into Arwen than catch fleeting glimpses of Arwen and Glorfindel. It's good for the movie, but Tolkien's work was right for the book.
7. What did I think of Liv Tyler as Arwen? Many have been disappointed with her, but I thought she was impressive, giving us an interesting, attractive, engaging character, and helping us understand Aragorn better along the way. The romance doesn't inspire us because the movie doesn't have enough time to give us any history with the lovers; thus we have to take them at their word. Besides, there's much more to come.
8. The Ringwraiths and the Balrog are perfectly terrifying. The battle with the Stone Troll in the Mines of Moria, while not a significant moment in the book, is brilliantly expanded here to become one of the big screen's most riveting action scenes. Look how far we've come since Luke Skywalker fought the Rancor in Return of the Jedi. And I think the scene on the bridge at Khazad-dum is the single most spectacular confrontation of good and evil in the history of movie-making. Ian McKellen deserves an Oscar for how he handles this scene.
9. Peter Jackson's adventure has a distinctly different style from Spielberg/Lucas-brand adventures. Viewers are not invited to enjoy the battles the way we gasp and thrill at Star Wars shootouts. There's real fear and desperation in the conflict. We experience frightening pursuit and frenzied battles just the way the adventurers themselves do ... as sudden, chaotic, life-threatening crises. No time for cocky movie-star nonchalance here. Aragorn, played by Viggo Mortensen, isn't a wisecracking Han Solo; he's the kind of guy you'd choose to defend you if the fate of your family, your nation, and a natural paradise were on the line.
10. The effects are standard-setting; Jackson and WETA Studios have stolen the torch from Lucas and ILM with this awe-inspiring work. But some sequences are clearly stronger than others. (See the five complaints below.) Fortunately, New Zealand's natural beauty makes the argument for Middle Earth's goodness; it's the film's finest special effect of all.
11. The score by Howard Shore is the finest I've heard in years. He does what John Williams used to do... concoct rich, memorable themes, but weave them into a symphony that is more than just a pile of motifs. What is more, he gives these themes an age-old weight, even borrowing one from an old British melody called "Blessed Land", which many of us know as the tune for the appropriate hymn "This Is My Father's World". Great stuff, both in the movie and played separately, a soundtrack that underlines the film's virtues instead of dominating them.
Could the film have been better? On several counts, yes.
Tolkien once said of movie adaptations, "The failure of poor films is often precisely in exaggeration, and in the intrusion of unwarranted matter owing to not perceiving where the core of the original lies." Jackson has admirably and efficiently streamlined the story, while honoring the book's "core." This is his interpretation of Tolkien's romance, just as Arthurian legend has been interpreted by T. H. White, Thomas Malory, Steven Lawhead, and Monty Python.
Of course it is painful for those who love the books to see some of their favorite chapters skipped. But if the film had included all of Fellowship's beloved events-Tom Bombadil, the Barrow Wight, Bilbo's songs and Frodo's dance-fans would have nodded knowingly, but newcomers would have struggled to keep up with all of the names and information being thrown at them. As moviegoers are drawn to the book and its sequels, those gaps will be filled.
Having said that, I still take issue with several aspects of the film.
1. The movie's biggest problem is its pacing. Jackson moves extremely fast, trying to include as many scenes as possible. This robs us of an accurate sense of time passing-in the books this journey takes months, but onscreen it feels like a few desperate days. We don't have time to get familiar with important places, like the Inn at Bree. When the Hobbits grimace at having to leave the Shire or Rivendell, I sympathize. This is the kind of thing that could be fixed in an enhanced DVD format and a longer film.
2. We also miss out on the complexity of many central characters — Hobbits Merry and Pippin, and Gimli the Dwarf, are reduced to sidekicks with the occasional zinger. The movie repeats information about the early history of the One Ring so many times — that time might have been better served by giving us more character-building moments.
3. Why did Jackson opt to edit out the crucial subplot about Gimli being blindfolded in Lothlorien? That episode, which culminates in his gaining an appreciation of elves, is one of the epic's pivotal moments. In fact, the gifts Galadriel offers the Fellowship are essential moments that influence later events. The removal of other scenes leaves the main storyline almost unfazed, but this is one of the epic's most inspiring and significant events. It affects the way we see the involvement of both Legolas and Gimli for the rest of the saga. Perhaps it will be told in flashback in the sequel?
4. When the Lady Galadriel is tempted to seize absolute power, we're given a vision of what she might become-and frankly, it looked like a bad cartoon. Why did we need a big special effect? Cate Blanchett is an excellent actress; I have no doubt she could have made those lines stick.
5. Why did Jackson choose to have Saruman be the cause of the storm on Caradhras? Tolkien's world is alive with fascinating villains, and the true cause of that storm is a more exciting and interesting story. Saruman looks like a silly Dungeons and Dragons wizard, calling up the storm. It's the only point when the movie falls out of high-style into cornball and cliché.
Minor quibbles aside, I'd venture to guess that Tolkien would have been content, even pleased with most of the film's embellishments and abbreviations. Scenes of orcs tearing down trees to build war machines got right to the heart of Tolkien's earliest childhood memories... of men cutting down willow trees for no good reason, a foreshadowing of the advance of industrialism and the destruction of his idyllic childhood home in Sarehole. And he would have gasped at the beauty of the New Zealand landscapes designed by the greatest set designer in movie history... the Maker whom Tolkien served.
Tolkien confided to his publisher in 1957: "I should welcome the idea of a ... motion picture, with all the risk of vulgarization; and that quite apart from the glint of money, though on the brink of retirement that is not an unpleasant possibility." He anticipated that a movie would oversimplify... vulgarize... the work. But it would draw many to read his works, in the end. I think this would have pleased him above all.
But the greatest thing about The Fellowship of the Ring is this: Almost every reviewer that confessed ignorance about the books quickly added that the movie has compelled them to go and start reading. There they will appreciate just how much richer the story actually is. For that, I am very very grateful.
Even though Tolkien regretted the loss of his privacy in the rising tide of his fame, he once said, "It remains an unfailing delight to me to find my own belief justified: that the ‘fairy-story' is really an adult genre, and one for which a starving audience exists." Longtime fans and newcomers alike should be grateful that this, the grandest of fairy tales, has fallen into Peter Jackson's capable hands.
Thank you, Peter Jackson, for what you have given moviegoers. You've pulled our sense of childlike wonder out of bed and shouted, "Wake up! Look at what is possible!"
•
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING --
SPECIAL EXTENDED DVD EDITION
New Line Home Video has now delivered a package that will be on a lot of Christmas wish-lists. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring — Special Extended DVD Edition — four full discs of information and entertainment — comes in a handsome regular edition and an even more elaborate collector's gift set. But it is not just a piece of holiday hype.
Ian McKellen begins the collection's feature-length cast commentary by pointing out that over the credits, "It's doesn't say A Peter Jackson Film. It's Tolkien's Lord of the Rings." True enough. But having said that, it is worth noting that Jackson and his creative team have ambitiously improved on their own theatrical release, filling gaps and offering pleasant surprises at regular intervals. Fans of Tolkien's classic series will be delighted to see several episodes that were missing from the big screen version hereby restored, enhancing a film already rich in exquisite detail.
There are many brief but important additions spliced into existing scenes: Isildur's flight from the orcs; sights along the road as Frodo and Sam depart the Shire; Aragorn's slow establishment of the hobbits' trust; and glimpses of ancient wonders within the dwarf mines of Moria. More casual exchanges between the heroes further develop their characters and endear us to them — like Sam's efforts to reassure and support Frodo at every turn.
But far more elaborate and rewarding are the extensions to our tours of the Shire, of Rivendell, and Lothlorien. We get a more leisurely, informative, and comical introduction to hobbit lifestyles, and the camera lingers on more of the astonishing set design — village design, really — which was cultivated so it would seem these cultures existed for centuries before the filmmakers arrived. Thus, when Gandalf warns that Sauron threatens all the lands of Middle Earth, we now know more and appreciate better what beauty, what joys, what traditions the enemy may well destroy in upcoming episodes.
Tolkien fans should proceed with caution. There is such a wealth of information here, enough to make your loved ones wonder what has come over you as you sit exploring its resources for hours on end.
Exhibit A: A documentary on Tolkien emphasizes his immersion in languages, and how his passions helped him endure childhood after the loss of both his parents. We learn that the beginning of Middle-Earth happened "with a pencil and notebook while he was in the trenches" during World War 1, a conflict that claimed the lives of his best friends. Later, Stanley Unwin explains how his own book review played a part in what would become "the 20th century's second-most-read book after the Bible." (Speaking of the Bible, there is little if any mention of Tolkien's Christian faith and its influence on these stories.)
Other Tolkien authorities answers common criticisms of the epic, including accusations of racism and blatant religious allegory. They emphasize the book's celebration of multiple cultures, and point out Tolkien's insistence that the story is not an "allegory", but is rather in the hand of the reader to interpret its "applicability". The special guests do, however, speculate on why the saga resonates with us today. One focuses on the nature of "impersonal" crimes committed in contemporary society, and how faceless bureaucrats bear a relationship to "wraiths."
Exhibit B: A montage of cast and crew telling their own personal stories of discovering Tolkien's work, which edition they first enjoyed, and the impact the stories had on them.
Actor Sean Bean's enthusiastic participation is a testament to his deep love for the books. Jackson and his screenwriters demonstrate their own passion for honoring Tolkien, and they give compelling arguments to quiet those who protested the abandonment of beloved episodes like Tom Bombadil and the Old Forest.
And there is so much more. We are treated to a story almost as dramatic as Frodo's quest: Peter Jackson's quest to get the film made, against all odds. The director and his screenwriters discuss how the project survived Miramax's attempt to compress it into one movie, and how Jackson "trotted off to Hollywood" and called an executive at New Line, only to have them respond with a three-film option. Viewers then can browse through early sketches, set designs, and even some storyboards for scenes that were never filmed.
One of my favorite features is the footage of cast and crew celebrating at various premieres. Best of all is the party thrown in Wellington, New Zealand, where a whole community came together to celebrate the fruition of a true team effort.
I can't think of a better way for moviegoers to prepare for the opening of The Two Towers next month than to settle in with this sprawling, beautifully realized work. No home video package has ever offered such an in-depth look at the creative process or the way excellent storytelling can influence an audience.
That's The Spirit!
The Spirit is mannered to the point of madness. There is not a trace of human emotion in it. To call the characters cardboard is to insult a useful packing material.
Whitest Christmas Ever.
We're snowed in for Christmas.
We've canceled our trip to Portland to spend the holiday with my family.
We're doubtful that we can get to a local Christmas eve gathering.
Our church has canceled all Christmas services.
And it's a good thing I got home from Cincinnati, because an icy arctic blast has provoked my friends there to cancel their own Christmas parties.
Be safe, everybody. We have everything we need in our own homes and hearts. No need to make that last-minute trip to the shopping mall, no need to risk our lives to get to a party. Put on Over the Rhine's Snow Angels and sing along: "I wanna get snowed in... with you...."
And speaking of that... I'm quite happy being snowed in with Anne.
P.S. We're especially appreciating our backyard ornament this year: I'll bet you can guess what we've named it...
Cincinnati memories + OTR Set Lists
You're welcome to browse my often-blurry snapshots from my weekend in Cincinnati and my three Over the Rhine concerts... here at Flickr.
By the way, here are the Set Lists for the concerts:
FIRST CONCERT
SET ONE
- Eyes Wide Open
- How Does It Feel?
- How Does It Feel? (Reprise)
- Within Without (with Kim Taylor)
- Like a Radio
- Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander
- June (with Kim Taylor, Jake Bradley, Kenny Hutson, and Julie Lee)
- Circle of Quiet (with Kim Taylor and Julie Lee)
- Daddy Untwisted (with Kim Taylor and Julie Lee)
SET TWO
- Paul and Virginia (with Jake Bradley, Kenny Hutson, Mickey Grimm, Kim Taylor, and Julie Lee)
- Poughkeepsie (with Jake Bradley, Kenny Hutson, Kim Taylor, and Julie Lee)
- Mary’s Waltz (with Paul Patterson)
- Silent Night (Duet) (Paul Patterson, Julie Lee)
- Faithfully Dangerous (with Jake Bradley)
- A Gospel Number (with Jake Bradley, Kim Taylor, Julie Lee)
- All I Need Is Everything (with Jake Bradley, Kim Taylor, and Paul Patterson)
- If I’m Drowning
ENCORE NUMBER ONE
- My Love Is a Fever
- I Painted My Name (with Kim Taylor and Julie Lee)
ENCORE NUMBER TWO
- Latter Days
- What’s So Funny ‘Bout Peace, Love, and Understanding? (with Jake Bradley)
CONCERT TWO
SET ONE
- Born
- I Don't Want to Waste Your Time
- Trouble
- All I Ever Get For Christmas
- White Horse
- Here It Is
- The World Can Wait
- (a recorded phone message from Jack)
- If Nothing Else
- I'm On a Roll
- The Trumpet Child
- Who'm I Kiddin' But Me
SET TWO
- Ohio
- Professional Daydreamer
- BPD
- Happy Birthday (sung to Kim Taylor and Kenny Hutson)
- Darlin'
- Snow Angel
- We're Gonna Pull Through
- North Pole Man
- Don't Wait For Tom
- When I Go
FIRST ENCORE
- Cruel and Pretty
- Changes Come
SECOND ENCORE
- Hush Now
- New Redemption Son
THIRD SHOW
St. Elizabeth Church - Norwood, OH
- I Want You to be My Love
- Long Lost Brother
- Suitcase
- Anything At All
- We're Gonna Pull Through
- Bothered
- [Kim Taylor] Days Like This *
- [Julie Lee with Jake Bradley and Kenny Hutson] Does the Road Wind Uphill **
- Paul and Virginia
- Poughkeepsie
- Goodbye Charles
- [Q and A]
- Hush Now
- Jack's Valentine
- Cruel and Pretty
100 film critics polled... and "Slumdog Millionaire" isn't in the top 10.
indieWIRE's annual poll of 100 American film critics has resulted in a very exciting list, one that's jam-packed with films I admired this year. I'm not among the many fans of Slumdog Millionaire, so I'm pleased to see that so many other critics found other films more impressive than that flashy, stylish, but relatively shallow and manipulative pop-song of a movie. (I'll get around to posting what bothers me so much about Slumdog soon...)
Hou Hsiao-hsien's "The Flight of the Red Balloon" topped indieWIRE's annual survey of more than 100 North American film critics. It was named best film of the year and Hou was singled out as best director in a survey of 105 critics conducted this month by indieWIRE. Written by Hsiao-hsien Hou and Francois Margolin, the film was inspired by Albert Lamorisse's classic, "The Red Balloon." Released theatrically back in April and simultaneously on demand via cable TV, the IFC Films title debuted at the 2007 Cannes Film Festival. James Marsh's "Man on Wire" was voted the best documentary of the year in the survey.
Browser - "Snowpocalypse" edition: Over the Rhine, U2, WALL-E, Sam Phillips
Merry Christmas, everybody!
I've just returned from Cincinnati, where I joined about 2,500 friends to celebrate Over the Rhine's 20th anniversary. We enjoyed three days of concerts, the reunion of Over the Rhine's original lineup, and music spanning their whole career. I'll soon be writing about the band, the history, the poetry, the fans, and a kind of band/audience relationship you just won't find anywhere else. But for now, I'm just smiling in the glow of some unforgettable experiences, and posting photos from the shows at my Flickr page. Many, many thanks to Rick Paul Poole and Wendi Poole for their extravagant generosity, and to Brian Volck and Jill Huppert for their hospitality, and to Nathan, Sarah, and Amos Partain (and Abby Meeks!) for making the trip out to join me for the third show of the weekend. Thanks also to the extraordinary Linford Detweiler and Karin Bergquist, who added "Changes Come" to the show knowing how much that song means to me.
I returned to Seattle in the midst of "Snowpocalypse 2008," landed in a blizzard, and worked my way through SeaTac airport, which has become a crowded campground for stranded travelers.
I'm also working steadily on Cal-raven's Ladder, the third book in my Auralia Thread series. And thanks to Seattle Pacific University's snowstorm closure, I have about two weeks ahead of me for more writing. So that's very good news for Auralia and company.
Meanwhile, I'm working on my Favorite Movies of 2008 list, and I still have a few more important films to see before I feel ready to post that list: Wendy and Lucy, Rachel Getting Married, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, for starters.
The Browser: News & links to raise your eyebrows & furrow your brow. New headlines may be added as the day goes on. Stay tuned.
Hello, Cincinnati! And Happy 20th Anniversary, Over the Rhine!
I'm arriving in Cincinnati tomorrow afternoon. It'll be my first visit there, and I couldn't be more excited about attending ALL THREE 20th anniversary concerts for Over the Rhine this weekend. If you're going to be there, let me know. Maybe we can meet and chat.
I'll be writing an essay about Over the Rhine soon, and this experience will be a vital part of that project.Read more